


Happenstance

by silentdescant



Series: Happenstanceverse [3]
Category: Adam Lambert (Musician)
Genre: Aftercare, Blindfolds, Breathplay, Dom/sub, Flogging, Handcuffs, Humiliation, M/M, Threesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-11-30
Updated: 2010-11-30
Packaged: 2017-10-13 11:20:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/136795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silentdescant/pseuds/silentdescant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Did you keep all our stuff, when I moved out? Do you still have the handcuffs? And, uh. The rest?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Happenstance

Tommy's splayed out on his back on the bed, shirtless, with his arms stretched to the corners by the headboard and his legs hanging off the end of the bed. Adam crouches by his dresser, digging through the bottom drawer.

“Find 'em yet?” Tommy slurs. He's not actually drunk, Adam sure; he's been languid and drowsy since Adam had gotten him off in the bathroom at the club, his hands in Tommy's hair and his teeth sinking into Tommy's bottom lip.

Adam sits back on his heels. “I found three different flavors of lube and a bunch of condoms,” he says disappointedly.

“But that's not what I want,” Tommy whines. Adam watches him flop over onto his stomach.

Sighing, Adam grabs his cell off the dresser and hits speed dial. After a few rings, a cacophony of thudding music and laughter nearly blows out his eardrums.

“Adam! What's up?” Brad asks loudly.

“Are you busy?” Adam asks, then slaps himself on the forehead. Obviously Brad's busy, if he's out partying. “I was just wondering if you kept all our... stuff.”

“Hang on, hang on.” A moment passes, and then the noise suddenly dims. “What's up, baby?”

“Did you keep all our stuff, when I moved out?” Adam asks quickly. He glances over and finds Tommy watching him. He turns on his side and props his head up on his hand to listen.

“What kind of stuff? I've got some things of yours, and some things we bought together. Do you want that ugly-ass lamp back? Please say you want it. Please.”

“No, I mean...” Adam looks at Tommy, waiting for him on the bed. “Do you still have the handcuffs? And, uh. The rest?”

Adam can practically hear the grin in Brad's voice when he answers. “I have everything. I can bring it by your place.”

“No, you're out, I can just—Well, I still have a key, I can go and get it—”

“He's there now, isn't he?” Brad asks. “Adam! You didn't even tell me! No, you stay there, get your boy a glass of wine, I was about to leave anyway. I'll be there in half an hour.”

He hangs up without waiting for a reply and Adam throws Tommy a sheepish look. “You want a glass of wine?”

***

He and Tommy are curled up on the couch when the doorbell rings, Adam with his arm around Tommy's neck, gently stroking his hair. The TV's on, but Tommy seems more focused on Adam's throat, licking and sucking and biting, though with none of the urgency of earlier in the evening. Adam gently extracts himself and stands up, smirking when Tommy stretches out on the couch with his arms over his head.

Brad has a paper grocery bag in his arms and an unopened bottle of wine clutched in one hand. He's wearing one of his party outfits; skin-tight pants and a shirt that's so small it shows off almost his whole stomach. He pushes the bag into Adam's arms and lets himself inside.

“Hey, Brad,” Tommy says softly. He crosses his wrists. Adam's not sure if it's on purpose or if Tommy's really that much of a natural. He puts the bag of supplies on the floor next to the couch.

Brad looks at Adam and smirks, lifting one eyebrow in amusement. He waves the bottle of wine. “Thirsty?”

“We already...” Tommy murmurs, gesturing to the wineglasses on the coffee table.

Adam rolls his eyes. “You know you're interrupting, Brad, what do you want?”

“Just a drink,” Brad answers innocently. “I'll get myself a glass.” He disappears into the kitchen, hips swaying like he's dancing.

Adam turns to Tommy, ready to apologize, but Tommy's just grinning up at him, completely relaxed. Adam rolls his eyes again and follows Brad into the kitchen.

“Thanks for the stuff,” he says softly. He presses up against Brad from behind, trapping him against the counter while he pours the wine. “But why are you here, baby?”

“I just wanted to see,” Brad replies. His voice is quiet and Adam wonders if he's jealous. But then he turns around in Adam's arms and brushes a lock of hair off Adam's forehead. “He's pretty.”

“He is,” Adam agrees. Brad leans into him. He sighs. “Stay for a drink.”

Brad grins happily and squirms out from Adam's embrace. Adam shakes his head at the ceiling. “What the fuck am I doing?”

He finds Brad in his spot on the couch, gently trailing his fingers up and down Tommy's neck. Tommy sighs and turns his head to rub against Brad's thigh, eyes closed.

“Adam,” he murmurs. “Adam, he can stay.” Tommy's voice is slow and quiet, almost like he's been hypnotized or something. Brad traces the line of his jaw and Tommy moans softly.

“Is he on something?” Brad mouths to Adam, with a look of concern. Adam shakes his head and smirks at Brad's wide-eyed surprise.

Adam kneels down and lays his hand over Tommy's throat. “Baby, what do you want?”

“Want you to fuck me,” Tommy moans. “Been waiting so long.”

Adam glances up at Brad, whose eyes are downcast. “I should go, I'm sorry,” he whispers.

Tommy lifts his hand—it looks like it takes a lot of effort, and really, Tommy shouldn't be that deep already—and lays it on Brad's arm. “Stay. Want you too. Want to suck your cock.”

Brad looks up sharply at that. “Adam—”

“Do you want to stay?” Adam asks, holding his gaze. It's a long moment before Brad finally recovers from the shock and uncertainty, but he finally nods. Adam kneels up and closes his lips over Brad's in a powerful kiss, and Brad melts into him immediately.

“Take the bag to the bedroom and wait there. I'll get him.”

Brad slides out from under Tommy's head and pads to the bedroom, quiet and serious. Adam takes a moment to comb through Tommy's hair with his fingers, hopefully bringing him up a little. Tommy's eyes seem a little more focused when he opens them.

“You want him to stay, baby? You wanna play?”

For the first time tonight, Tommy looks unsure. Adam takes it as a sign that he's not too deep in his own head to make decisions. “Is that okay?”

“Yeah, of course. Come on, baby.”

Adam has to lift Tommy to his feet, but Tommy's mostly steady as he walks to the bedroom. He hesitates in the doorway until Adam pushes him inside. Brad's there, sitting on the edge of the bed and playing with the hem of his shirt. All the makeup around his eyes makes him look like a ghoul in the low light; Adam goes over to him and tilts his chin up, erasing the shadows.

“Take off your jeans and get on the bed, Tommy,” he says loudly. “Brad?”

“Yes?”

“These clothes make you look like a slut.”

Brad licks his lips, defiant. “So what if I am?”

“Take 'em off. My boy wants to suck your cock.” He pushes Brad away, off the bed, hard enough that he stumbles. It's been so long, with Brad, but Adam remembers the feel of every plane and curve of his body. He remembers every dirty, sick fantasy they'd shared with each other. He ignores Brad while he's getting undressed, though, and turns his attention to Tommy, who's lying on his back, watching him with hooded eyes. Adam realizes suddenly that it's going to be difficult, managing two people with very different needs.

“You wanna suck that slut's cock, baby?” He doesn't leave time for Tommy to answer, just slaps his thigh sharply. “Turn over, hands and knees.”

Tommy rolls over at once and pushes himself up easily; it's almost strange to see how strong Tommy's arms are, holding him up like this, when he's so loose and relaxed. Adam wraps his hand around Tommy’s throat for a moment, just feeling the quick beat of his pulse. It’s speeding up, now that he knows something’s coming. Adam leans in and licks into Tommy’s open mouth, nipping at his lower lip. He watches Tommy’s eyes flutter closed.

“On the bed, Brad,” he orders, without turning around. He knows Brad’s ready. He hears Brad take a halting step forward and then stop, so he glances over. Brad’s naked, hands loose by his sides, but he’s looking at the bed—at Tommy—uncertainly.

“How do you want me?” Brad asks softly.

Adam bites his tongue on an answer and hardens his voice. “Did I say you could ask questions?”

“No,” Brad replies, the barest breath of sound. It takes a lot to make Brad blush, but Adam’s almost there. It’s rush, knowing he still has that power.

He makes Brad wait for it, and Brad doesn’t break his gaze. Adam’s proud of him. “Kneel with your back to the wall. Don’t touch him.”

Brad obediently climbs up onto the bed and slides between Tommy and the wall to kneel there. He’s very careful not to let his knees touch Tommy’s arms. His cock is fully hard now, curving up towards Tommy’s face.

“I want it, I want him, please,” Tommy murmurs. He’s careful to leave a few inches between them, though, even as he licks his lips and sways forward.

“Not yet, baby,” Adam says gently, reaching to pet Tommy’s back. “We gotta make him earn it.”

“Adam, please,” Tommy says. “Please.”

Adam leans in very close to whisper in Tommy’s ear, like he’s telling a secret, but he pitches his voice so Brad can hear. “He’s not a good boy like you, baby. You have such a gorgeous mouth, Tommy; he doesn’t deserve it yet.”

“But—”

“Enough.” Adam gives Tommy’s ear a quick bite; he scrapes his teeth along the metal and tugs at his earlobe, his eyes flicking up to check on Brad. “Soon, baby.”

Brad’s leaning back against the wall, and he’s breathing rapidly, almost panting already. Adam straightens up and fixes him with a hard stare. A slow flush creeps down Brad’s chest.

“He gets what he wants, doesn’t he?” Brad asks in a shaky voice, and Adam nods.

“But you don’t,” Adam finishes. “You’re a fucking slut, Brad. You don’t deserve the things you want. You’ll take what I give you.”

“Please—”

“Begging won’t help you,” he says coldly. He lays his hand gently on the back of Tommy’s neck and feels tension there. He squeezes once and lets go, hopefully enough to comfort him. Tommy stretches, rolling his neck a little, and Adam watches the tension slide out of him. It won’t take much to put him down deep again, and Brad’s getting there faster than Adam had expected as well.

He moves to the foot of the bed, where the paper bag is waiting on the floor. He takes it and dumps everything into the bottom drawer of his dresser, where it all belongs in the first place, before rummaging through for the handcuffs. He finds both sets, the padded metal ones and the wide leather ones, and then picks up a flogger and a bottle of lube. He brings everything over to the bed and spreads it out by Tommy’s feet. He can’t resist tweaking Tommy’s toes, just enough to make him grin, not enough to tickle and make him laugh and squirm.

Adam looks up and finds Brad watching him with impossibly wide eyes. He forces his face into something angrier than he feels and Brad blinks in response.

“Put these on him,” Adam commands, tossing Brad the leather cuffs. Brad works quickly to buckle the cuffs around Tommy’s wrists; he does well, his fingers steady and sure on the fastenings, and he’s so gentle with Tommy. Adam lays his hand at the small of Tommy’s back, too, and smiles when Tommy arches up into him.

“Good boy,” Adam murmurs. “You’re gonna be so good for me, aren’t you, baby?”

Brad’s watching him again. His lips are just barely parted; he looks so pretty and hurt and they’ve barely even started. Adam studies him closely for anything like real jealousy and doesn’t find it, so he gives Tommy’s shoulder a gentle kiss.

He moves to the head of the bed and takes Tommy’s hands, wrapping his fingers fully around Tommy’s thin wrists. He stretches them forward, one on either side of Brad’s body, and hooks them to the slats in the headboard. He doesn’t touch Brad yet, and Brad’s being so still, so good, that Adam wants to praise him. He praises Tommy instead.

“Your turn,” he says coldly as he turns to face Brad. “Hands behind your back.”

The padded handcuffs snap closed around Brad’s wrists easily, like they were made for him. Adam remembers when they first bought them, when Brad wanted to use them almost every night, until even the fuzzy padding rubbed bruises into his wrists and Adam refused to keep hurting him. He slides his finger down Brad’s arm slowly and tucks it into the cuff, pressed against Brad’s pulse point. He’s missed seeing Brad like this.

Brad catches his eye and he looks wary. Adam realizes that it might be easier for Brad to accept this if Adam truly felt nothing for him. _Too bad, baby_ , Adam thinks. He kisses Brad’s arm, near his elbow, and cuffs Brad’s hands behind his back, so he’s tied to the headboard.

“Adam, I want, please, I want you,” Tommy murmurs.

“I know, baby.” Adam backs away to take in Tommy’s stance. He guides Tommy’s knees closer, so his back is straight and he’s not hunched over in a bow. Tommy’s head sways low for a moment, almost close enough to touch Brad’s cock; Adam can see the desire in both of them. “Stay just like that, baby,” he says. “You’ll be so still for me, won’t you? You’ll be so good.”

“Yes, I will, Adam, I will, please.”

Adam starts off slow, light taps with the flogger across the swell of Tommy’s ass. Tommy squirms a little and adjusts his stance, preparing himself.

“Good boy,” Adam murmurs.

He cranks up the intensity pretty fast—he knows what Tommy can take. After a while, Tommy starts moaning and crying out with each hit. He keeps his body as still as he can, and it’s impressive that he’s not flinching and falling and trying to get away. It amazes Adam, how eager Tommy is to accept pain.

“So good, baby, so beautiful. You look so good, taking it for me.”

Tommy preens a little, smiling until Adam forces another cry out of him. Adam finally looks up to see how Brad’s handling the show. Brad’s visibly uncomfortable, shifting as much as he can in his handcuffs, and breathing rapidly. Adam swings his arm and sees that Brad closes his eyes when the leather tails snap against Tommy’s skin.

“Watch,” he commands, meeting Brad’s eye and glaring. “You don’t get to close your eyes.”

Brad grits his teeth and resolutely stares down at Tommy. Adam knows Brad’s angry, but as long as he’s obedient, anger doesn’t matter. He swings again and Brad blinks but doesn’t look away.

Tommy’s cries are getting louder and louder, and Adam wonders how far he can push him tonight. Brad changes things a little, but not enough to make Adam stop short of what each of them needs.

When Tommy chokes on a real scream, Brad flinches and jerks hard at his handcuffs. Adam keeps going. The flogger hits Tommy’s back again, the sharp ends curling around his side, and Tommy starts to sob, panting out pained little cries and snippets of Adam’s name.

“Adam, Adam—” Brad suddenly cries, sounding truly panicked. He’s straining against the handcuffs, leaning as far forward as he can. “Adam, stop!”

Adam reaches in and grabs Brad’s chin, yanking his head up and forcing eye contact. “Trust me with him,” he says sternly. He keeps his gaze gentle, though, trying to convey that he knows what he’s doing. After a moment, Brad exhales and nods, and Adam lets his stare turn icy.

“He’s stronger than you,” he hisses, pushing Brad’s face away, and Brad nods again. He grabs a handful of Tommy’s hair next, pulling him up so Adam can see his face.

There are tears there, and his lips are bitten red and swollen, but he has the lazy, dazed look in his eyes that tells Adam he’ll take anything and beg for more. Adam loosens his grip and pets Tommy’s hair flat again.

He meets Brad’s eye over Tommy’s back as he picks up the flogger again. He knows it’s hard for Brad to watch, but he has other plans for the blindfold. Adam tries to tell Brad without speaking that he doesn’t have to see this anymore, he can look away. Brad stares straight at him and doesn’t even blink.

Adam finally breaks Brad’s stare and brings the flogger down hard on Tommy’s back. He looks back up as soon as Tommy regains his balance and finds Brad still watching him, refusing to look down at Tommy, at the red marks on his skin. _Good boy_ , Adam thinks. _Don’t look down_.

He swings again and sees Brad flinch when the leather slaps Tommy’s skin. “Tommy?” he breathes, quiet enough that Adam has to read his lips to understand.

Tommy hears him, though. He arches his back, rolling his shoulders, and lets out a low, wavering moan. “Please, please, please, more,” Tommy says.

“More?”

“Last one,” Adam interjects smoothly. He runs his hand down Tommy’s back, starting at the jut of his shoulderblade and sliding down to the swell of his ass. Every mark is raised and intensely hot, like Adam had branded him. He moves back and swings one last time, angling the flogger so it crisscrosses the majority of the previous marks. More aesthetically pleasing, that way.

Tommy’s arms shake with the effort of holding him up. He sobs, pleads for more, more, more; he’s at the point where he doesn’t know when it’s too much. Brad can’t handle watching this any longer anyway. Adam drops the flogger at the end of the bed and drags both hands up along Tommy’s body to knead at his shoulders.

“That’s enough for now, Tommy,” he says gently. “Brad’s waiting for you.”

Tommy lifts his head and leans forward, breathing—panting against the head of Brad’s cock.

Adam moves quickly to retrieve the blindfold from the drawer. He fastens it around Tommy’s head and kisses the outer curve of his ear. “You want to suck him off?” Adam whispers. He licks Tommy’s ear. “You want his dick in your mouth?”

“Yes, please, Adam, please, I want him,” Tommy moans. Adam wraps one hand around the back of Tommy’s neck, the other around the base of Brad’s dick, and guides them together. Tommy’s eager and greedy, his pouting lips closing immediately over the head and sliding down, down, until Brad chokes on a cry and yanks at his handcuffs.

“He’s all yours,” Adam says to Tommy, who hums in reply.

With Tommy occupied and distracted, Adam climbs up on the edge of the bed, high on his knees to loom over both of them, and closes his hand tightly around Brad’s throat. He leans in and pulls Brad towards him, so they’re plastered together, and presses his mouth to Brad’s ear, this time. He pitches his voice low enough that Tommy won’t hear.

“Don’t make a fucking sound,” he commands, forcing every ounce of anger he has into his voice. “ _Nothing_. Understand me?”

Brad nods as well as he can and relaxes into Adam’s hold, his eyes sliding shut. Adam squeezes his throat, kneading with his thumb against Brad’s thudding pulse.

“You’re such a fucking slut, boy. What did you think when you came into my house? You manipulative little bitch, you planned this all along. You couldn’t wait to get my boy’s mouth on your cock, right? My hand around your throat. Or is it just that you’ll take your clothes off for anyone, huh, Brad? You have no fucking shame.”

Adam watches Brad’s eyebrows knit together, his lips part as he struggles for air. The wet, obscene noises Tommy makes around Brad’s cock almost drown out the ragged gasps that Brad’s making in lieu of words.

With his free hand, Adam drags his nails down Brad’s spine, stopping to squeeze his ass firmly before continuing down the line of his body to where his hands are pulling at the chain of the handcuffs. He finds the latch by feel and one of Brad’s wrists springs free. His hands fly to his throat; he layers both hands over Adam’s wrist.

He doesn’t pull at all. Brad’s hands rest there, hardly tight at all, and when he arches his back, he pushes his neck further into Adam’s grasp.

Beneath them, Tommy presses forward and takes Brad’s cock all the way down into his throat. Neither Brad nor Adam try to hold him there, so he backs off, catches his breath, and goes back down until his lips are sealed around the base of Brad’s cock.

Brad’s hands cling to Adam then; his short nails bite into Adam’s wrist, though he doesn’t try to pull Adam away. His lips are moving and his eyes are squeezed tightly shut.

 _Adam, Adam_ , he’s mouthing, breathing out the words he’s not allowed to say. _Adam, please. Adam_.

Adam feels a wave of warmth course through his body. He leans in to whisper again. “I want you to come down his throat,” he growls. He releases Brad’s neck without warning and closes his lips over the shocked, desperate cries that Brad can’t contain. Adam sucks Brad’s tongue into his mouth, and Brad—he arches his back, hips thrusting forward into Tommy and head tilting back until he hits the wall. He gives over to the kiss completely; all the tension in his body dissipates and he lets Adam devour him.

When Adam breaks the kiss, Brad collapses back against the wall with a gasp. Adam watches him for a moment, taking in the deep red marks around his throat; those are sure to bruise. There’s redness around his pale wrists as well.

Tommy, when Adam glances down, is still lapping at Brad’s cock, making eager little noises around him. Adam slides his fingers through Tommy’s hair and pulls him back, sliding the blindfold off easily.

“Tell him how much you love it, baby,” he orders Tommy, scratching his nails through Tommy’s hair. Tommy rolls his shoulders and purrs like a cat, and then he looks up at Brad. The heat in Tommy’s eyes takes Adam’s breath away.

“Brad, I love it, I love your cock, tastes so fucking good, I wanted to suck you so bad, you’re so fucking good—” His voice sounds rough and fucked out, and he’s still gazing up at Brad with that intensely intimate desire, even through the fog of subspace.

Adam bends down and presses his lips to Tommy’s, both to shut him up and to taste Brad on Tommy’s tongue. It’s even hotter than Adam anticipated, and he decides he needs to fuck Tommy right the fuck now.

Adam moves off the bed and takes a moment to get himself back under control. Brad’s still slumped against the headboard, panting heavily but apparently too exhausted to move. Tommy leans forward to nuzzle Brad’s crotch, and Adam really needs to put a stop to that before Brad gets any ideas. But Brad’s hands are limp beside his thighs, and he doesn’t even reach for Tommy at all. Adam grabs Brad by the arm and yanks him off the bed anyway; it’s time for phase two of his plan.

“Fuck! Please, Adam, fucking hell—” Brad cries when he hits the floor. His voice is even raspier than Tommy’s. Adam drags Brad around to the foot of the bed and tugs sharply on a handful of his hair.

“Stay right there, slut. You even think about moving, I’ll fucking beat you worse than him, you hear me?” Adam growls, punctuating his words with a squeeze to Brad’s bicep.

Brad nods frantically. Adam can see that he’s deep enough now that it doesn’t matter if Adam’s bluffing. Adam slaps Brad’s cheek—lightly, much lighter than he’d hit Tommy—to make his point, and Brad gazes up at him with a wounded look in his eyes.

He leaves Brad crumpled on the floor and goes back to Tommy, who’s grabbing fistfuls of the sheets in an effort to calm down. Adam strokes his hands up and down Tommy’s arms a few times, then slides them down to unbuckle each cuff from the headboard, murmuring encouragements and endearments under his breath. He leaves the cuffs fastened around Tommy’s wrists, though, because they’re just too pretty to resist, even if he doesn’t plan on using them again tonight.

“Need you to get up for me now, baby, come on,” he says in a low voice. He wraps his arms around Tommy’s chest and hauls him up. Tommy struggles when his back hits Adam’s chest, but it’s brief and automatic. Adam presses firmly against him, and the second Tommy’s mind takes over his body again, he goes limp in Adam’s arms. Adam thinks about the discarded blindfold, but it doesn’t take long for him to decide that he wants Tommy to be able to watch. He drags his fingers through Tommy’s hair for a moment and then without warning, yanks his head back against Adam’s shoulder.

“Good boy, you’re such a good boy for me, Tommy. I’m gonna fuck you so fucking hard, baby, do you want that?”

“Yeah, Adam, yes, please fuck me, please. I’ve been waiting so long. Please, I want you now.”

Adam hears Brad groan and he looks over his shoulder to glare at him. Brad’s left cheek is flushed red where Adam slapped him, and the bruising around his throat is livid and deep. Adam feels a pang of regret in his heart when he realizes that Brad will still take this from him, even after all of their fights and all this time spent apart.

Brad’s begging with his eyes, keeping the rest of his body still and his wet, swollen lips parted as a temptation. Adam knows that look; he wants his mouth around Adam’s cock, but that’s not going to happen. _Not right now, anyway_ , Adam amends. He’s got something else in mind for Brad.

“Turn around, baby, look at him,” he whispers to Tommy. He grinds against Tommy’s ass, holding him still with both arms wrapped around him, and Tommy melts back against him.

He moves away after a moment and lets Tommy turn himself. He guides Tommy to kneel at the end of the bed, then slides his fingers through Brad’s hair, tilting his head up and forcing him to look. Brad’s eyes sink closed at first, until Adam gives his hair a sharp tug, and when they open again, his gaze is drawn immediately to Tommy’s leaking cock, which juts out almost at Brad’s eye level.

Brad licks his lips twice; the first time his tongue sweeps out, it’s instinctive, but the second time is slower, deliberate. Adam can tell he’s trying to beg again.

Adam takes Brad’s hand, the one with the handcuffs still attached, and feeds the chain through the slats in the footboard. Brad offers up his other wrist to Adam, holding the delicate underside up and exposed. Adam appreciates the effort. He leans down to whisper in Brad’s ear while he’s cinching the handcuffs shut.

“You want his cock in your mouth, whore? You want him to fuck your face like you did his?”

“Yes, yes, please,” Brad gasps, already leaning in towards Tommy’s cock. Adam reaches up and lays his hand on Tommy’s stomach, holding him back as he also sways forward.

“No,” he says simply. “Now you stay there and don’t fucking move, bitch.”

Brad yanks on the handcuffs in frustration and shoots Adam a desperate glare, but he doesn’t move the rest of his body. Adam squeezes the back of his neck and leaves him.

It only takes him a moment to get out a condom and the lube from the nightstand and get himself ready. He climbs onto the bed behind Tommy and lets himself relax a little bit. Tommy’s being so good, so still, just waiting patiently for him, and Adam really wants to give Tommy what he’s been begging for all evening. He takes a deep breath and nudges Tommy’s legs apart.

“Stay just like this, baby, hold still for me,” he murmurs. “Be so still, Tommy. I know you can do it. Be good for me.”

Adam lifts both hands and rests his fingertips at the tops of Tommy’s shoulders, just the barest hint of pressure.

“Be good for me, baby,” he says again, then presses his fingers in hard and drags them all the way down Tommy’s back.

He feels the welts and the heat of Tommy’s skin, and the way Tommy’s muscles twitch under his hands as Tommy tenses like a guitar string, trying so hard not to move. He lets out a wail that slides into desperate pleas almost immediately, and Adam leans in to press a kiss to the back of Tommy’s neck.

“So good, baby, you’re so good for me, such a pretty little painslut, baby, you’re so good.” Adam darts his tongue out and tastes the flush that spreads over Tommy’s shoulders. “I’m gonna fuck you, baby, is that what you want? Is that what you’ve been waiting for? Waiting so fucking long, baby, I know.”

Tommy wails again and collapses back against Adam’s chest. His hands reach back and curl reflexively, pawing at Adam’s thighs.

“No, Tommy, no, sit up,” Adam says firmly. “Let me get you ready, Tommy. We’re gonna give Brad a show.”

“Adam, please,” Brad moans. Adam catches sight of his fingers straining to reach around the footboard, holding the wood as tight as he can. Adam shakes his head at Brad and kisses Tommy’s shoulder again.

He quickly coats his fingers in lube and presses two in between Tommy’s cheeks. Tommy doesn’t even tense up, he wants it so much. He pushes back against Adam’s hand and Adam goes back in with three fingers. Tommy drops his chin to his chest—Adam doesn’t know if he’s looking at Brad, but he suspects not; he suspects Tommy’s eyes are closed tightly. Adam withdraws his fingers and grasps Tommy’s bony hip with one hand and his own cock in the other to line himself up.

Adam kneels up as he slides in, forcing Tommy to straighten his back and sit up as well. Tommy opens his mouth in a silent gasp and his head falls back against Adam’s shoulder. Adam closes his eyes tightly and breathes in the scent of Tommy’s hair, of his sweat and his skin, and listens to the sound of Brad struggling against the metal chain of the handcuffs.

Tommy’s so far gone he’s past begging; Adam moves his hand to Tommy’s chest and presses him back, holds him close, and Tommy doesn’t even fight him, even though Adam knows it must hurt like hell. A series of wordless moans and cries fall from Tommy’s lips as Adam fucks him, and Adam waits until he hears “please”, slurred and mumbled, but clear enough, before sliding his hand down Tommy’s body to circle around his cock.

“Oh god, please, Adam,” Brad gasps, and Adam hears the jangle of the handcuffs again. He opens his eyes. Brad’s sitting up high on his knees, leaning in and holding himself back, staring up at Adam with desperate eyes.

Adam swipes his thumb over the head of Tommy’s cock, smearing the excess of precome down his length, and smirks in Brad’s direction. Tommy shudders and writhes against him.

“You’re gonna have to beg for it, bitch.”

“Adam, Adam, I want—I need it, please—”

“ _You_ need it?” Adam asks sharply. Brad goes quiet immediately, his eyes wide with apprehension. Adam raises an eyebrow. “What makes you think I’ll give _you_ anything?”

Brad opens his mouth to reply, to beg, but Adam shakes his head and rocks his hips up. Tommy lets out a loud moan of approval. His cock pulses in Adam’s hand, so close, so ready.

“I’ll make him wait until you get it right,” he says in a low voice as he stares down at Brad.

“I don’t know—Adam, please, what—”

“Keep talking,” Adam murmurs. He puts his lips against Tommy’s neck, a gentle, slippery kiss. “You’ll figure it out.”

Tommy cranes his neck the opposite direction to give Adam more space, and Adam makes use of it. He scrapes his teeth along the tendon in Tommy’s neck, nibbles at his earlobe, sucks a bruise into the spot just beneath his jaw. Tommy reaches back with one hand and paws at Adam’s shoulder, at his hair, anything to keep Adam right there, but Adam doesn’t mind. There’s no real force behind Tommy’s movements until Tommy grabs a handful of Adam’s hair and tugs, groaning and thrashing and pushing back against Adam’s cock.

“Yeah, baby, tell me,” he whispers. “Tell me, baby, come on.”

“Hurts—want—fuck, Adam—please, I want—I need—don’t make me wait—oh, fuck, _Adam_ —pleasepleaseplease…”

“Let him come, please,” Brad cries. Adam hides his grin in Tommy’s hair and waits Brad out. “Please let him come, Adam, please, he needs it, look at him, look, he needs it, he wants it, make him come, Adam. Make him come all over me, please. I want to feel it, I want him to have it, I want to do this for him, please, let him, Adam, please… Let him mark me, he wants it so much.”

Adam opens his eyes and focuses on Brad again, slowing his thrusts enough that Tommy can catch his breath. Brad’s hands are tight fists around the slats of the footboard, and the cuffs are digging into his pale wrists, and he’s straining up towards them, sitting as high as he can without getting up off his knees. It’s been so long since Adam’s seen Brad this desperate, this deep into headspace, and it’s so beautiful to watch that Adam’s almost ready to give in to his pleas.

“You hear that, baby?” he asks Tommy. “You hear how much that slut wants your come? He’s begging for it. He’s begging me for you. Is he right, Tommy? Do you want to mark him? Do you want to leave him dirty and used?”

Adam grips the base of Tommy’s cock tightly in one hand and strokes up and down his chest with the other, teasing each of his nipples in turn.

“I’ll give you whatever you want. Tell me you want him, Tommy.”

“Please, Tommy, please use me,” Brad begs. He tilts his head up, exposing his bruised throat for both of them. “I’ll make it so good for you, Tommy, please. I want your come, I want you to come, please, Adam, let him, Tommy, please—”

“Are you convinced yet, Tommy?” He gives Tommy’s cock a hard squeeze, murmuring encouragements when Tommy shudders and groans.

“Adam, it hurts, it hurts so much. I want to come now, please let me come,” Tommy whispers. There are tears on his cheeks. Adam kisses the corner of his jaw and flicks his tongue out to taste the salt.

“What about Brad, baby?” Adam nudges Tommy’s cheek with his nose. “Open your eyes. Look at him. He’s waiting for you.”

“Please, Tommy, use me,” Brad says. “Tell him. Tell him you want me.”

Brad seems calmer, now. Resigned. Tommy’s so close to the edge it feels like he’s vibrating with it, but he’s pliant and so obedient. Adam likes this moment, the calm before the storm. The few seconds right before everyone gets what they want.

“I want you,” Tommy breathes. Adam follows his gaze down to Brad, who closes his eyes and smiles in satisfaction. “I want him, Adam, please.”

“You’re so good, baby,” Adam says. “So good for me. Come now, Tommy, you can now. Come all over him. Mark him, use him. He wants it, look how much he wants you, baby, watch.”

Adam ignores the pain of Tommy’s fingers twisting his hair and focuses on getting Tommy off. He sweeps his hand over the head of Tommy’s cock and gives him a few firm, tight strokes. He feels the tension in Tommy’s body and grinds his hips up. Tommy tightens around him and lets out a sharp, pained cry.

“Watch, baby, watch,” Adam whispers. He aims Tommy’s cock and stokes him through his orgasm, and he knows Tommy’s watching when he hears Tommy’s breath catch as his come streaks across Brad’s face and throat. Brad stays very still through it all, just waiting for it, wanting it, and it’s only after Tommy starts whimpering at the overstimulation that Brad even opens his eyes.

Brad’s tongue slowly slides over his lips, licking up the come that he can reach. His lips twist into a soft, blissful smile, and Tommy goes limp against him, and Adam can’t hold on anymore. He thrusts up into Tommy and squeezes his hips, pulling him back and riding out his orgasm. Tommy mewls and babbles incoherent endearments and Adam can’t rip his gaze away from Brad’s grateful expression.

“Love you, I love you,” he whispers against Tommy’s ear, and he means it, he means it for both of them. But Brad’s not ready to hear it. Tommy answers and Adam kisses him gently as he withdraws, and then time seems to slow down as they all catch their breath.

He settles Tommy down on the bed on his stomach, ghosting his fingertips over the welts that cover his lower back, and then he goes into the bathroom to splash water on his face.

His reflection in the mirror is exhausted and satisfied, and it makes Adam grin to see how much the night affected him. He needs a shower and he wants to decompress, to get out his journal and write and sort out all the things he’s feeling. There’s no noise coming from the bedroom, and he knows they’ll wait for him all night, but he can’t leave them too long. Adam wets a washcloth in the sink and fills a plastic cup of water, then grabs the bottle of aloe and the Advil off the counter.

He tends to Tommy first, holding the cup to his lips and helping him sip it to swallow a couple pills, and then gently wiping his ass and his back with the washcloth. He leaves the aloe on the bedside table for now.

Brad, when Adam circles around to the foot of the bed, is slumped on the floor, leaning against the footboard with his legs sprawled out and his arms hanging limp from the cuffs. His eyes are closed and he’s breathing deeply, and Adam wonders if he actually fell asleep like that.

Adam kneels behind Brad, ready to catch him when he falls, and unlatches the cuffs from around Brad’s wrists. Brad does fall back against him, and then he’s like a dead weight in Adam’s arms.

“Hey,” Adam whispers. “Hey, Brad, look at me, baby.” He cups Brad’s jaw and tilts his head up, and after a few seconds, Brad opens his eyes, looking dazed and sleepy.

“Hey,” he answers. His voice is low and rough and Adam strokes his thumb across the bruises around Brad’s throat. Brad doesn’t flinch.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, okay?”

“Don’t wanna move.”

“It’s okay, I got you.” Adam turns Brad around and pulls him closer into his arms. “Hold onto me, baby.”

Brad drapes his arms around Adam’s neck, but he doesn’t really hold on. Adam lifts him carefully and lays him down on his back next to Tommy, who’s looking a little more awake now that he’s cleaned up. Brad lets Adam position him on the bed and cover him with the blanket, and he smiles but doesn’t open his eyes when Tommy scoots closer and starts licking the streaks of come off Brad’s chest.

Brad’s still hard, but it looks like the desperation is completely gone now. Adam gives him a soft kiss, dipping his tongue into Brad’s mouth briefly, just to tease, and moves down on the bed to wrap his lips around Brad’s cock. It doesn’t take long, with Adam swirling his tongue and Tommy kissing his way up to Brad’s mouth, and Brad barely even tenses his body when he comes. He lays his hand on the top of Adam’s head and strokes his hair lazily as Adam swallows him, looking languid and relieved to finally come.

Adam sits up and looks down on his boys as they kiss. Tommy’s fingers are curious and gentle, roaming across Brad’s chest light enough to tickle. Brad reaches up with one hand and strokes Tommy’s hair. Neither of them is far from sleep now.

Adam finds the washcloth and nudges Tommy’s hand out of the way to clean off Brad’s chest. They finally break their kiss when Adam finishes, and he leans down to kiss Brad himself. He tastes like Tommy but he kisses like himself, like he’s slowly coming out of that headspace. When Adam pulls away, Brad makes an effort to sit up.

“No,” Adam whispers.

“I should—I need to go,” Brad replies. He pushes himself up on his hands. Adam slides his hand down Brad’s arm to his wrist, which is visibly bruised from the padded handcuffs.

“You need to stay,” Adam counters. “I can’t let you go like this. You can sleep on the couch if you want, but I want you here, with us.”

Tommy hums his agreement and rubs his nose sleepily on Brad’s forearm.

“I don’t want to—”

“Intrude?” Adam leans in again, cups the back of Brad’s head gently, and kisses him. “You aren’t intruding.” He slips in between Brad and Tommy and lies back against the headboard. He tugs Brad’s arm. “Stay.”

Tommy snuggles up against his left side and falls asleep almost immediately, his breath evening out and gusting warm across Adam’s chest. Adam’s nearly asleep himself by the time Brad finally lies down and pulls the blanket up over them.

It’s bright and early the next morning when the smell of coffee wakes Adam up. Sunlight is streaming in through the window, and Tommy’s standing in the doorway with two steaming mugs. Tommy catches his eye and grins, leaving the mugs on the bedside table as he crawls back into bed and starts licking and kissing Adam’s throat.

On Adam’s other side, Brad’s still fast asleep and drooling a little onto Adam’s arm. Adam moves his arm and rubs his eyes. “What time is it?”

“Dunno,” Tommy murmurs. “Early. There’s coffee.”

“I saw.”

Tommy sits up and hands Adam one of the mugs, watching him happily as Adam takes a careful sip. It’s made exactly how Adam likes it—he expects nothing less from Tommy—and he smiles his approval. Tommy’s grin widens.

“How do you feel?” he asks.

“Good,” Tommy answers quietly. “A little sore. I took some more pills this morning. How do I look?”

“Turn around,” Adam says. Tommy obeys immediately, turning his body and settling on his knees. The welts on his back have darkened into a deep pink, and there’s a smattering of bruises around Tommy’s hips, but the rest of his skin looks pale and undamaged.

“Really good,” Adam finally answers. Tommy turns around and moves in for a coffee-flavored kiss. Adam pulls Tommy onto his lap and keeps it light, gentle, until he hears Brad stirring beside them.

They break apart and Adam sees that Tommy’s hands are wandering again; his palm is rubbing against Brad’s nipple. Tommy backs away and leans down to kiss Brad awake.

“I brought you coffee,” Tommy whispers. Adam hides his smile in his own mug.

“What time is it?” Brad grumbles. His voice is still a little rough. Adam reaches automatically for the bottle of Advil and shakes out a few for Brad.

“It’s early,” Adam replies with a sigh. Tommy’s always like this after an intense scene, and Adam has no idea why. With Brad, they slept in as long as they could, then talked or watched TV until hunger forced them out of bed. Tommy, on the other hand, wakes up ungodly early and makes coffee and breakfast and noodles around on his guitar until Adam’s finally ready to get out of bed.

It’s partly the residual effects of Tommy falling so deep into subspace, Adam knows. Tommy takes a long time to resurface, and until he does, he likes to make himself useful and obedient. But Adam doesn’t know why Tommy’s not utterly exhausted the morning after. Even after beatings like last night, the soreness doesn’t get Tommy down.

Tommy takes Adam’s coffee and sips it for a moment while Adam rolls onto his side to assess Brad’s injuries. “You okay?” he asks quietly, skimming his fingers over Brad’s neck.

Brad nods. “It’s been a while,” he replies. “It’s been… a long while.”

Adam takes that to mean nobody’s had their hands around Brad’s throat since Adam, before they broke up. He stops himself from laying his hands over the bruises and pressing down on them again. He takes his mug back from Tommy instead.

“And the rest? You went deep, you both did.”

“It was… good,” Brad says slowly. “I missed it.”

Adam gives him a smile that means _me too_ and settles back against the headboard to sip his coffee. After a moment, Brad shifts to do the same. Tommy bounces a little at the foot of the bed, watching them. He smiles at Adam, then at Brad, and then at Adam again. Waiting.

When Adam finally wakes up for real and stops feeling like he might doze off any second without the assistance of caffeine, Tommy takes his coffee mug and puts it on the nightstand, exchanging it for the bottle of aloe lotion. He hands it to Adam and Adam rolls to his knees to makes a space for Tommy to lie down on his stomach.

Brad puts aside his own mug and lies next to him, on his side with his head propped on his hand. Tommy turns his head toward Brad and gives him a satisfied smile when Adam pours a line of oily lotion across his shoulders. Adam swings one leg over to straddle Tommy's thighs, but he doesn't let his weight rest on him; he’s not sure how sensitive Tommy is this morning.

He kneads Tommy's shoulders firmly, working out the knots. There's no need for him to be careful, yet; there are no marks this high up. Tommy sighs under him and Adam sees Brad tilt his head, assessing.

“I don't think I could ever do what you do,” Brad says softly. Adam assumes he's talking to Tommy, though it could apply to him as well.

“I like it,” Tommy answers. “I wanted it. I wanted _more_ , but...”

“You didn't need more,” Adam murmurs. Brad glances up at him and Adam can see the question in his eyes, if Adam stopped last night because of Brad or because of Tommy. Adam's not entirely sure of the answer.

Tommy has… pretty flexible limits, with regards to pain. Adam knows he can handle a lot; they've not yet reached the point where Tommy stops things himself. But Adam still doesn't know if it's because he can truly take as much as Adam gives him, or if he just gets so deep into the headspace that “too much” doesn't register. So far, it's been up to Adam to decide when Tommy's had enough.

Brad, on the other hand, has explored the things he will and won't take from Adam. They've pushed boundaries together and found hard limits for both of them. Adam clearly remembers the tightening in his chest whenever Brad's safeword tripped off his tongue. Real pain is one of Brad's limits; he doesn't enjoy it, receiving or, Adam imagines, giving, considering the fact that he could barely stand to watch Adam beat Tommy last night.

Adam slides his fingers carefully down Tommy's shoulderblades, barely pressing down, just feeling the marks and assessing the damage. He didn't draw blood this time, but Adam sees now that it was a close thing. He pours more lotion into his palms and gently massages it into Tommy's skin. Tommy hisses in pain and his muscles jump and tense under Adam's hands, but Adam keeps up the easy pressure until Tommy relaxes again.

“Doesn't it hurt,” Tommy asks, “what he does to you?”

“I can handle a few bruises,” Brad replies with a teasing grin.

“No, I mean...” Tommy trails off uncertainly. Adam lifts his hands, waiting for the end of the sentence. “He's never like that,” he whispers, after a long moment of hesitation.

Brad's smile softens and he reaches over to brush a lock of hair away from Tommy's face. “That's how I know it's a game,” he says.

His answer seems to satisfy Tommy, who sighs deeply and resettles on the mattress, humming a little when Adam touches him again. Brad pushes himself up and leans in to kiss Adam's shoulder.

“You were amazing last night,” he murmurs. He trails his hand down Adam's arm and lays it carefully over Adam's, so he's almost-but-not-quite touching Tommy's back.

“But not this morning?” Adam teases.

Brad rolls his eyes. “You know what I mean, Adam. With both of us. You were really good.”

Brad's hand slips a little—Adam can't tell if it was accidental or not—and the tips of his fingers skim one of the most livid marks across the center of Tommy's back. Adam watches Brad's face carefully, but he only seems... considering. Thinking.

“It was really good,” Brad finishes, after a moment.

Tommy sighs again. “We should do this again,” he says, every line of his body projecting satisfaction.

Adam feels a sharp thrill at his words. Brad, meanwhile, looks worried. He gives Adam a wary glance and pulls away a little, putting a few inches between him and both Adam and Tommy.

“I don’t know if that’s…” Brad trails off, shaking his head slowly.

Adam suddenly knows what Brad is thinking, and he’s pretty sure it’s not what Tommy’s suggesting. Tommy seems to catch on as well; his arm snakes out and he grabs Brad’s wrist to pull him back. Brad tumbles down, catching himself on his elbows, and Tommy squirms closer.

“All the time,” Tommy says, and closes the distance between them. The kiss is relatively chaste, even compared to what Adam and Tommy do on stage, but the tension leaves Brad’s body and he melts into it.

“If it’s okay with you,” Adam adds, reaching to rub Brad’s shoulder.

After a long, quiet moment, Brad flops onto his back and quirks his eyebrows. “Adam,” he says, “I think your boyfriend has a crush on me.”

Adam grins. “I think he does, too.”

“I totally do,” Tommy agrees, settling back into his pillow with a smug smirk.

“I don’t want to mess up what you have together,” Brad says after a few seconds. His smile fades a little, and this time, Adam’s sure that look can be described as wistful. He reaches for Brad again.

“And I don’t want to mess up what you and Adam have,” Tommy replies. Adam rolls off him so he can sit up and make his point. “But I want you, Brad. And I know Adam still loves you like crazy.”

Brad looks up at Adam for confirmation. “You know I do,” Adam murmurs. He hadn’t been expecting this, especially not from Tommy, but he can’t deny how amazing it had been last night, with both of them. All three of them. Together.

Brad rubs his neck, touching the darkest part of the bruise Adam’s hand had left. Adam knows the decision he’s going to make before he even opens his mouth. Brad glances at Tommy, then at Adam, and Adam bends over him, leaning down to capture his lips in a slow kiss. Brad responds to it instantly, opening his mouth and sliding his tongue against Adam’s.

Adam hears Tommy’s soft sigh behind him and pulls back enough to speak. “We want you, Brad,” he says against Brad’s lips. “We want you with us. Say yes.”

Brad’s eyes are closed. “Yes,” he breathes.

Tommy pushes his way in and steals a kiss from both of them. “Fuck yes!”

 

 _fin_.


End file.
